The Memory of Love Page 12

  “What are you doing?” Callie asked. She was about to demand that Ruth leave her alone so she could continue to wallow in her misery without contaminating anyone else.

  “Someone had to tell you, and I figured it might as well be me.” Ruth settled into a rocking chair near Callie’s bed and gave her a look that warned Callie to listen without interrupting.

  “MaryBeth has confessed that she knew Sarah had been planning something,” Ruth announced without any trace of the sunshiny-bright tone she normally used.

  Callie absorbed the statement, feeling the slightest glimmer of hope begin to build inside her. She should have thought to ask MaryBeth herself if she knew anything, instead of hiding away from everyone. But the glimmer lasted only a moment. No, she was better off alone. To depend on others was not something she could do. She would face this just as she had learned to face the orphanage and what had happened afterward. Alone.

  “How do you know that is not some story MaryBeth made up to get people to quit pestering her?” she contested.

  “No one is doing that,” Ruth replied. “Perhaps she did not realize Sarah was serious. You know how it is with young people, they sometimes …” Ruth’s words faded, and a pained expression crossed her face.

  Callie had stayed under her covers in her bed. Now she pushed herself up and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Perhaps that is the problem. I do not understand young people any more than I understand myself.”

  Ruth covered her face with her hands. “First Suzannah and the baby, now Levi …” Sharp agony was apparent in the woman’s sobs.

  Callie hadn’t thought about the fact that Ruth, who had just lost a third granddaughter, had now lost her only son also.

  “I am sorry, too, Ruth, but what am I supposed to do? Sarah obviously did not wish to remain here, and so she …”—she gestured helplessly—“she talked Levi into doing something insane.”

  Ruth twisted her fingers in the seam that ran alongside her dress. “It might have been Levi’s idea. You cannot blame just Sarah.”

  Callie struggled to hold her tears in. “I think Sarah sees this as a game. She told me that since I had never had fun, I did not know how to let her do so.”

  Ruth raised her eyebrows. “I am sure she did not mean it. You know how Sarah is, always chattering on and on without meaning much.”

  “Yes, well, she took us all for fools, did she not?” There was tartness in Callie’s tone.

  The idea that her sister had deserted her—and with a man, no less—and she had not suspected it, had been eating away at her. She wanted to shout at the heavens in much the same way Sarah had on the trip from Pennsylvania to Schoenbrunn. Instead, she crumpled her hands together in her lap and looked at Ruth.

  Ruth’s ebony eyes shone bright over her pinched lips, making Callie feel awkward. Here Callie had been feeling sorry for herself, forgetting that the woman across the table had lost so much. Had she no sense of compassion? No, she could feel Ruth’s hopelessness as if it were a tangible thing.

  “Sarah began acting strangely not too long ago,” Callie said without prompting. “Now I see she was leading up to this. I did not press her because she always got so tired of me telling her what to do.”

  The tears were getting closer. She could feel them filling the lids of her eyes. “All I wanted was to bring her up properly. You understand, do you not?”

  And it was all a farce, a little voice inside her head said. Nothing you did proved to be any good. Sarah is gone!

  Ruth moved to Callie’s side. If the woman was desolate, she hid it well. “No one blames you. You did the best you could.”

  Callie moaned. “But my best was not good enough. She is gone and Levi is with her, and now we have sent men off to explore a part of the wilderness no one knows in order to find them. What if Sarah does not want to be found? What if something happens to her and Levi?”

  She didn’t say his name out loud, but the concern she had for Joshua was uppermost in her mind, almost pushing away the worry over her sister.

  “We must trust God to lead them home.”

  Callie stiffened. “The whole mission is in an uproar and it is my fault. I would not blame Brother David if he asked me to return to Pennsylvania tomorrow.”

  Ruth laid a hand on Callie’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “It is not in an uproar and you are not leaving. You tend our sick.” Ruth’s hand trembled, and Callie felt her own weariness mingle with the woman’s.

  Ruth went on. “Have you forgotten that when we think the world is against us, we must ask God to make it right?”

  “So I am allowed to stay because I have skills the mission needs?” Callie asked, deflecting the part about praying. “That is comforting.”

  She turned tear-drenched eyes toward the woman standing beside her. A mother would do this, she thought. A mother would hold, and hug, and tell me it will be better tomorrow. But she had no mother or father. She had only substitutes who had their own families and lives to worry about.

  Ruth shook her head. “You are staying because we love you. And because you love God. It is His grace that has brought us to this point. The trials we face on earth are designed to make us stronger in the end.”

  “But Sarah—” Callie began.

  “Shhh.” Ruth ran her fingers through Callie’s hair, arranging the tousled curls into some semblance of order. “Now is not the time to worry. Now is the time to pray.”

  “God will hate me for saying this, but I cannot. The words will not come.” Callie’s voice was rife with painful emotion. Without thinking, she threw herself against Ruth’s ample frame.

  “There, there.” Ruth smoothed her hand across Callie’s forehead and looked into her eyes. “God will not desert you. Nor will He desert Levi and Sarah, no matter what they do. He is always there. And there is nothing you or they are going through that He does not understand.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  A look of surprise flitted across Ruth’s face. “Do you think I would have agreed to come to this wilderness if I did not?”

  Callie pulled away from Ruth. “Why did you come? You and Zeke must have given up a lot to do this.” It felt good to think about something else. She was tired of worrying over Sarah—and Joshua.

  “There are times in your life when you have to quit looking back at who you were and start looking ahead to who you can become. Zeke and I had our troubles early on, and many times we almost caved in and allowed Satan to control us.” She shivered. “How glad I am we did not.”

  “You mean you almost left Zeke?”

  “No. We almost left Jesus.”

  “What happened?” The question was out before Callie could stop it, but Ruth’s arm was around her shoulder and it made her feel more secure than she had in a long time.

  Ruth sighed. “You might as well know. Perhaps it will help in some way.”

  “If you do not want to share, I will understand,” Callie said, even though she was very curious.

  “Brother David and his flock had camped not too far from our home,” Ruth began. “We were young then. Suzannah was a wee babe and Levi was just beginning to kick within.”

  Ruth’s eyes misted over and Callie drew her down onto the bed beside her. Suddenly Callie was the comforter, not the comforted, a role for which she was more experienced.

  “We went to one of his fellowship meetings, mainly because he promised a free meal. Nothing was growing in our garden, and hunting did not bring much to our table. We had sold about every piece of furniture and hand-me-down we owned to buy a cow so we had milk.”

  Callie brushed a speck of straw from Ruth’s sleeve. “That is terrible.”

  “It would have been, had we allowed ourselves to continue.” Ruth swallowed hard. “Zeke had taken to traveling around the countryside and snatching stray chickens. I begged him not to, but it meant eating.”

  “Did you not have relatives who could help you?”

  Ruth nodded. “There were kinfolk—live
d not too far away as a matter of fact. But they tossed us out when Suzannah was born two months early. Said they knew what we had been doing before we married.” Ruth wiped her eyes then pursed her lips. “We had not. She was early, but both sides refused to see us or help us. Said we had made our bed, we could lie in it.”

  Suzannah’s tendency to have her babies early might just run in the family, Callie realized. She shifted on the bed. “Your families disowned you?”

  “That is about the size of it.”

  “How did Brother David make such a difference?” She knew how he had helped her after the orphanage had been destroyed, how his flock had taken her and Sarah in, provided them with shelter and food, and love. And now Sarah had turned her back on that. The memory stabbed afresh in her heart.

  “Brother David showed us what God’s love is really all about. After we had been to one meeting, we found ourselves going back. The women in the group would take Suzannah so we could listen to the sermons. It was like being home, Callie. No one condemned us for what they thought we had done. They accepted us as we were, no questions asked.”

  “They loved you. That is what you are saying.” The words slipped naturally from Callie’s lips. She had known the same kind of acceptance when she had first been introduced to the Moravian flock.

  “Yes, but more importantly, they showed us that God loves us and always will.”

  “Sarah does not think a loving God would let bad things happen,” Callie admitted. She could say that much without telling Ruth what else Sarah had said about not believing.

  “Suzannah was like that once,” Ruth replied. “She did not believe it either.”

  “Suzannah rebelled? But she is such a strong Christian now.”

  “You might not recall doing so, but it seems to me that most young folks rebel at least once in their lives. They listen to their minds not to their hearts.”

  “So you think Sarah might return to God one day?”

  “I cannot tell the future, but I do know that since you two joined us, you have given her a solid foundation to build on. It may sound cruel, but if Sarah chooses otherwise, you cannot let that destroy your life. Do you understand me?”

  Callie shifted her gaze to the fireplace for a long minute before she looked back at Ruth. “It is the same with Levi, is it not? You brought him up the best you could, but after a point, what he chooses to do is his decision?”

  Ruth nodded. “I think there is a young lady you need to visit. MaryBeth has been worried day and night that you will never speak to her again.”

  “She should not be. It was hardly her fault.” Callie was suddenly aware of the truth of that statement. It was not MaryBeth’s fault Sarah had run off. There was no one to blame but Sarah and Levi. That included herself, though she was not ready to let go of her guilt yet.

  The knowledge didn’t change the fact that no matter what she had tried to do, how she had tried to raise her, Sarah was gone. With Levi, who had not so very long ago taken her to the spring and insisted he had to talk to her. Something was not quite right about the whole thing.

  Callie thought back, trying to re-create exactly what Levi had said. Had his actions even then been part of his plan to run away with Sarah? Since that day, he had been strangely detached. On top of losing his niece, Callie supposed she had given him plenty to think about when she spouted off about her not being a trinket to be played with. A lump settled in her stomach. But if she had not pushed him away, he probably wouldn’t have taken Sarah and fled. That would mean it was her fault.

  Ruth touched her elbow and she realized she had been preoccupied. MaryBeth knew something about her sister. She hadn’t gotten past the shock of thinking of Levi and Sarah alone together on the trail, but she could not bear to push all thought of her only surviving relative aside.

  Callie stood on MaryBeth’s doorstep, wishing the last five days had been one of the bad dreams that kept plaguing her.

  “Why did you not tell me what Sarah was planning?” She tried not to sound too accusing.

  The girl looked at her through eyes as red from crying as her own. “I did not know she really meant it. She mentioned taking a trip a couple of months ago, but how was I supposed to know she was serious?”

  That sounded like Sarah, Callie admitted to herself. Her sister had often made comments about wanting to leave the mission, needing to return to Pennsylvania. It would do no good to rail at MaryBeth. The poor child was trembling in her shoes as it was.

  Callie inhaled slowly. “MaryBeth …” she started then stopped. The girl was devastated; even in Callie’s own emotional state she could see that. “I do not hold it against you. It is … I had such hopes you might …”

  MaryBeth fell toward her, her giant sobs tearing to shreds any piece of Callie’s heart that remained unbroken. She embraced MaryBeth, her chin resting on top of MaryBeth’s head. If she could not have Sarah, she could at least try to make MaryBeth feel better.

  She raised her eyes and looked at the sky. White clouds darted, their wisps looking as if someone had run a giant brush through them. The sun shone with such force, it was almost blinding. Somewhere miles from here, men from the mission were traipsing after her sister and Levi. Joshua was with them. All she had been able to say to him was “Godspeed.” She had even refused to go to the meeting house for the farewell prayer. Her heart faltered, and a sinking feeling fell over her.

  She thought about the unknown territory her sister and Levi, and Joshua and the search party, were venturing into. Would they make it? All of them? Any of them? Despite renegade Indians, overanxious soldiers, hungry wildlife? What would befall them?

  MaryBeth’s sobs quieted as she leaned against Callie’s chest. Callie felt awkward holding her. Sarah had never allowed such closeness. Her pulse drummed away, pushing away her fears for the moment as her own emotions produced wet trails down her cheeks. Despite how she felt about Sarah running away, she desperately hoped that someday she would once again see her sister.

  Chapter 10

  The nightmare woke her again. Three times in the past four nights she had bolted from sleep where she battled dark demons—faceless, voiceless shapes pressing in on her; just hands reaching and grabbing for her.

  The heat had been so oppressive, she had found it hard to sleep. And the ever-present dread and anxiety that clung to her as she thought of Sarah did not contribute to a pleasant state of mind either. Perhaps that is why the terrible dreams had come.

  She shivered as she swung her legs to the floor. She had experienced dreams of this sort after the flood and her accident. Then, Brother David had appointed different women to sit with her throughout the nights, to help chase away the screams and horrendous sounds. Why had they returned? It had been well over five years, and she had always associated them with her head injury.

  She reached up and fingered the knot located just inside the hairline on the left side of her head. It was the only outward indication of her accident that remained. The bumps and bruises suffered as she was swept along by the raging flood had faded, leaving only a gaping hole in her memory, much as the waters left destruction behind as they receded.

  She wished Sarah were here, for then the cabin would be filled with the scent of coffee brewing and stew warming. Sarah had always been first out of bed and had done those tasks.

  There will be no more days like that, Callie speculated, as rain began hitting the roof, providing a chilling accompaniment to her morose thoughts.

  For a moment she watched the drops cascade down the oiled paper covering the window. The paper had been rubbed with bear fat to help it repel water. Suddenly cold, she grabbed a blanket and tossed it around her shoulders. It was all so depressing—the nightmare and thoughts of Sarah and her deceit.

  Her eyes tracked the water sliding down the window covering. She welcomed the rain after the stickiness of the last few days. It meant her rounds of the sick would be delayed, but she had no serious illnesses at the moment to care for.

 
; After Ruth’s visit, and her own with MaryBeth, she had resumed working with the mission’s ill. Ruth had been right: Brother David was astonished to hear Callie thought she would be asked to leave.

  “No one wants you to go,” he had exclaimed when she confessed to him that she no longer felt worthy of staying. “You have done nothing to warrant our asking you to depart.”

  Callie had mumbled that she didn’t deserve to be around those who loved God, but the elder would have none of it.

  “The events of the last few weeks have depressed you, sister. Give it time. It is just as before, when you recovered from the flood. Your heart knows what is right.” He had patted her hand and given her one of his most encouraging smiles, as if that were all that needed to be said on the matter.

  It felt good to be wanted, and Callie did so want to believe he was right. But inside she no longer thought she was good enough to be a Christian. After all, she had failed in her effort to teach her sister to live a proper life. She had not been able to save three of the four Solomon children. On top of that, her un-Christian thoughts and words toward Levi proved she was not worthy of God’s love.

  Perhaps if she were wiser, or older? Callie rubbed at her eyes as tears threaded her lashes. Perhaps if she had had parents who hadn’t abandoned her? She whisked the thought away and tried thinking of the garden plot where seedlings stretched their shoots skyward. This was much needed rain for them. She pictured the plants welcoming the refreshing drops.

  Thunder suddenly rolled across the village. The room grew dark. She lit a candle and straightened her dress, noticing a small tear in the hem and making a mental note to mend it later.

  Thunder cracked again, closer this time, splitting the air with its might. Following it came an eerie roar she could not place.

  “I should get fresh water from the spring before the rain becomes too heavy,” she murmured to herself.

  Half rising from the chair, she heard the rain begin in earnest. Lightning flashed, so close that it brightened the room. She had never liked lightning, and now as twigs snapped on the oak tree beside her cabin, her pulse quickened. In the year they had lived here, there had been few storms that had sounded so ferocious. After one strong storm, Callie had spent the next day picking up leaves and branches. Sarah had helped her, laughing and giggling as they worked.